Tender Savage (Siren Publishing Allure) by Rosemary J. Anderson Page B

glory. He had gathered some nuts and berries and had caught a fish, having learned how to without a rod in survival training. His thoughts were abstracted, an unusual phenomenon for him. Always in control, ordered in mind and body, he was now distracted, preoccupied, unfocused, and he wasn’t used to it. Eleanor had got under his skin, and he didn’t like it. He should have left her behind, got the discs to safety, and then returned for her in a few days. But, he thought with a sigh, she’d been so vulnerable, a veritable babe in the woods, and his conscience had got the better of him. He stroked a thoughtful finger down his scar. He’d vowed never to get involved with a woman again. Date them, bed them, and then wave them on their way, but with Eleanor he’d succumbed. Caught off guard by her helplessness, he’d caved in and just had to become the hero and rescue her. As he thought of her, his heartbeat quickened. There was something about her that made him want to protect her, that made him feel vulnerable. It was like she had some kind of hold over him. He wanted to hold her and touch her, and, more worryingly, he wanted to know her, know everything about her, what made her laugh and cry, and even stupid things like what her dreams were. He grimaced. God he had to pull himself together. Anyone would think he had feelings for her.
    Sitting on a stump and gazing at the deceptively calm river, he let his thoughts become reflective, taking him back to that other time many years ago.
    The woman had been beautiful, with a childlike innocence that was illusory, an innocence that had covered a dark heart. He remembered those few days with a surprising clarity of mind. The mission had been to enter a war zone to recover a diplomat. His squad was the best there was, a crack team that diced with death on a daily basis, who knew each other inside out, where respect and loyalty was the order of the day.
    The information had been accurate, and the diplomat had been easy to find, but getting him out had been a Herculean task, surrounded as he had been by pseudo military men, freedom fighters as they liked to call themselves, but in reality, butchers, without conscience or compassion. They’d gone in at night, parachuting as near to the target as they could. Stealthily, they’d moved in, working as a team almost as one, mind, body, and soul. They knew what to do and were good at it.
    Men died. He shrugged. That was the nature of the game. Where men went, death and destruction followed.
    It had all gone so well. Enemy casualties had been kept to a minimum, and his men, luckily, had come out unscathed. The diplomat had been recovered, but he had insisted on bringing his aide with him, a variable not counted on. Grimacing, Abe remembered how upon seeing the aide, his heart had stopped, just for a few momentous, mind-blowing seconds. She had indeed been beautiful, and her smile, it had radiated around her almost as if the sun had come out. They had moved at speed, but she’d done all that had been asked of her, never complaining and always with that gentle, soul-destroying smile.
    He’d felt—Abe frowned—overwhelmed, he supposed, never before having been so affected by a woman, and, he admitted, he’d fallen head over heels for her. She’d been everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, spirited, courageous, beautiful, and sexy.
    The diplomat, in his eagerness to return to safety, had not obeyed orders and had as a consequence received a gunshot wound, but it had been a through and through, and his life hadn’t been in any danger. But even through all that their mission was a success, and they had returned home triumphant. Full of admiration for her spirit, he’d asked if he could see her again. He remembered the joy he’d felt when she had appeared to be as enamoured with him, as he was with her, and had so eagerly agreed. There followed a few weeks of complete happiness. They hadn’t known anything about each other, but